CHAPTER III. THE SAMARITAN AND ALEXANDRIAN CANONS.

The Samaritan canon consists of the Pentateuch alone. This restricted

collection is owing to the fact, that when the Samaritans separated from

the Jews and began their worship on Gerizim, no more than the Mosaic

writings had been invested by Ezra with canonical dignity. The hostile

feeling between the rivals hindered the reception of books subsequently

canonized. The idea of their having the oldest and most sacred part in its

entirety satisfied their spiritual wants. Some have thought that the

Sadducees, who already existed as a party before the Maccabean period,

agreed with the Samaritans in rejecting all but the Pentateuch; yet this

is doubtful. It is true that the Samaritans themselves say so;(79) and

that some of the church fathers, Origen, Jerome, and others agree; but

little reliance can be put on the statement. The latter, perhaps,

confounded the Samaritans and Sadducces. It is also noteworthy that Christ

in refuting the Sadducees appeals to the Pentateuch alone; yet the

conclusion, that he did so because of their admitting no more than that

portion does not follow.

The Alexandrian canon differed from the Palestinian. The Greek translation

commonly called the Septuagint contains some later productions which the

Palestinian Jews did not adopt, not only from their aversion to Greek

literature generally, but also from the recent origin of the books,

perhaps also their want of prophetic sanction. The closing line of the

third part in the Alexandrian canon was more or less fluctuating—capable

of admitting recent writings appearing under the garb of old names and

histories, of embracing religious subjects; while the Palestinian

collection was pretty well determined, and all but finally settled. The

judgment of the Alexandrians was freer than that of their brethren in the

mother country. They had even separated in a measure from the latter, by

erecting a temple at Leontopolis; and their enlargement of the canon was

another step of divergence. Nor had they the criterion of language for the

separation of canonical and uncanonical; both classes were before them in

the same tongue. The enlarged canon was not formally sanctioned; it had

not the approval of the Sanhedrim; yet it was to the Alexandrians what the

Palestinian one was to the Palestinians. If Jews who were not well

acquainted with Hebrew, used the apocryphal and canonical books alike, it

was a matter of feeling and custom; and if those who knew the old language

better, adhered to the canonical more closely, it was a matter of

tradition and language. The former set little value on the prevalent

consciousness of the race that the spirit of prophecy was extinct; their

view of the Spirit’s operation was larger. The latter clung to the past

with all the more tenacity that the old life of the nation had

degenerated.

The Alexandrian Jews opened their minds to Greek culture and philosophy,

appropriating new ideas, and explaining their Scriptures in accordance

with wider conceptions of the divine presence; though such adaptation

turned aside the original sense. Consciously or unconsciously they were

preparing Judaism in some degree to be the religion of humanity. But the

Rabbins shut out those enlarging influences, confining their religion

within the narrow traditions of one people. The process by which they

conserved the old belief helped to quench its spirit, so that it became an

antique skeleton, powerless beside the new civilization which had followed

the wake of Alexander’s conquests. Rabbinical Judaism proved its

incapacity for regenerating the world; having no affinity for the

philosophy of second causes, or for the exercise of reason beneath the

love of a Father who sees with equal eye as God of all. Its isolation

nourished a sectarian tendency. Tradition, having no creative power like

revelation, had taken the place of it; and it could not ward off the

senility of Judaism; for its creations are but feeble echoes of prophetic

utterances, weak imitations of poetic inspiration or of fresh wisdom. They

are of the understanding rather than the reason. The tradition which

Geiger describes as the life-giving soul of Judaism—the daughter of

revelation, enjoying the same rights with her mother—a spiritual power

that continues ever to work—an emanation from the divine Spirit—is not,

indeed, the thing which has stiffened Judaism into Rabbinism; but neither

is it tradition proper; it is reason working upon revelation, and moulding

it into a new system. _Such tradition_ serves but to show the inability of

genuine Judaism to assimilate philosophic thought. _Rationalizing_ should

not be styled the operation of tradition.

The truth of these remarks is evident from a comparison of two books,

exemplifying Alexandrian and Palestinian Judaism respectively. The Wisdom

of Solomon shows the enlarging effect of Greek philosophy. Overpassing

Jewish particularism, it often approaches Christianity in doctrine and

spirit, so that some(80) have even assumed a Christian origin for it. The

Wisdom of Jesus, son of Sirach has not the doctrine of immortality. Death

is there an eternal sleep, and retribution takes place in this life. The

Jewish theocracy is the centre of history; Israel the elect people; and

all wisdom is embodied in the law. The writer is shut up within the old

national ideas, and leans upon the writings in which they are expressed.

Thus the Hagiographical canon of Judea, conservative as it is, and purer

in a sense, presents a narrower type than the best specimens of the

Alexandrian one. The genial breath of Aryan culture had not expanded its

Semitism.

The identity of the Palestinian and Alexandrian canons must be abandoned,

notwithstanding the contrary arguments of Eichhorn and Movers. It is said,

indeed, that Philo neither mentions nor quotes the Greek additions; but

neither does he quote several canonical books. According to Eichhorn, no

fewer than eight of the latter are unnoticed by him.(81) Besides, he had

peculiar views of inspiration, and quoted loosely from memory. Believing

as he did in the inspiration of the Greek version as a whole, it is

difficult to think that he made a distinction between the different parts

of it. In one passage he refers to the sacred books of the Therapeutae, a

fanatical sect of Jews in Egypt, as “_laws_, oracles _of prophets, hymns_

and _other books_ by which knowledge and piety are increased and

perfected,”(82) but this presents little information as to the canon of

the Egyptian Jews generally; for it is precarious argumentation to say

with Herbst that they prove a twofold canon. Even if the Alexandrian and

Palestinian canons be identical, we cannot be sure that _the other books_

which the Therapeutae read as holy besides the law, _the prophets and

hymns_, differed from the hagiographa, and so constituted another canon

than the general Egyptian one. It is quite possible that the _hymns_ mean

the Psalms; and _the other books_, the rest of the hagiographa. The

argument for the identity of the two canons deduced from 4 Esdras xiv. 44,

&c., as if the twenty-four open books were distinguished from the other

writings dictated to Ezra, is of no force, because verisimilitude required

that an Egyptian Jew himself must make Ezra conform to the old Palestinian

canon. It is also alleged that the grandson of Jesus Sirach, who

translated his grandfather’s work during his abode in Egypt, knew no

difference between the Hebrew and Greek canon, though he speaks of the

Greek version; but he speaks as a Palestinian, without having occasion to

allude to the difference between the canonical books of the Palestinian

and Egyptian Jews. The latter may have reckoned the apocryphal writings in

the third division; and therefore the translator of Jesus Sirach could

recognize them in the ordinary classification. The mention of _three_

classes is not opposed to their presence in the third. The general use of

an enlarged canon in Egypt cannot be denied, though it was somewhat loose,

not regarded as a completed collection, and without express rabbinical

sanction. If they did not _formally_ recognize a canon of their own, as De

Wette says of them, they had and used one larger than the Palestinian,

without troubling themselves about a _formal_ sanction for it by a body of

Rabbis at Jerusalem or elsewhere. Their canon was not identical with that

of the Palestinians, and all the argumentation founded upon Philo’s

non-quotation of the apocryphal books, fails to prove the contrary. The

very way in which apocryphal are inserted among canonical books in the

Alexandrian canon, shows the equal rank assigned to both. Esdras first and

second succeed the Chronicles; Tobit and Judith are between Nehemiah and

Esther; the Wisdom of Solomon and Sirach follow Canticles; Baruch succeeds

Jeremiah; Daniel is followed by Susanna and other productions of the same

class; and the whole closes with the three books of Maccabees. Such is the

order in the Vatican MS.

The threefold division of the canon, indicating three stages in its

formation, has continued. Josephus, indeed, gives another, based on the

nature of the separate books, not on MSS. We learn nothing from him of its

history, which is somewhat remarkable, considering that he did not live

two centuries after the last work had been added. The account of the

canon’s final arrangement was evidently unknown to him.

The Canon of the Bible · 第 3 / 11 章